


Between us lies a river of stars

by iiscos



Series: Chapters [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, M/M, platonic Noct/Luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 23:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15351015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiscos/pseuds/iiscos
Summary: The Astrals foresee the future, but fate is written in the stars.





	Between us lies a river of stars

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just me complaining about prophecy and fate and how it's so unfair. Everyone deserves better. @Shiva, please fix this. Let your children be happy.

The High Oracle of Tenebrae rests the Crown Prince of Lucis on the Alter of the Gods, his small body enveloped in ivory sheets, his cherub face illuminated by thousands of flickering candles. The 114th heir of the Lucian Dynasty, the soon-to-be True King foretold in prophecy, Noctis Lucis Caelum is a child of the summer night, a child born to die so that Dawn may rise. 

The spirits of the Astrals gather before the infant, each with visions of what the future holds, each bearing gifts that will aid the True King in his perilous journey. The Archaean lends his strength, the Hydraean her fury, the Fulgurian his judgement, and the Draconian his valor. 

When the time comes for the Glacian to approach the alter, she hesitates for the infant has begun to cry. 

The Glacian watches the small, delicate features twist in anguish—whether from prophecy or nightmare, it matters not. She foresees him growing into a sensitive child, a compassionate young man, an indomitable king by twenty, and the fateful savior of Eos by thirty.

He is destined to die young, to watch loved ones die before him and then, to leave loved ones behind. His life will fade just as the darkness of night evaporates with the first ray of sun; night must pass for dawn to arrive. And the true tragedy would be the loss of his dreams, his love, his heart, and the hearts that he must forgo, hearts that will never be made whole.

The Glacian caresses the crying infant, his tears crystallizing like frozen dew. On his forehead, the Glacian places a kiss, and the infant halts in his crying and returns to sleep.

Hope—the Glacian concludes—will be her gift to the future King. When fatigue saps his strength and sorrow grips his fury, when desperation clouds his judgement and guilt cripples his valor, the light of hope will be all that remains to carry him until the end of his journey.

~~

The Astrals foresee the future, but fate is written in the stars. How futile is the power of prophecy when one is enslaved by destiny? How cruel is the state of immortality when one must bear the sorrows of an eternity?

~~ 

The Glacian approaches the infant who was never born—child of Niflheim, child of Daemons, child whose artificial heart beats like a boy soldier’s march—timely, doomed, and afraid. 

This child knows no mother, no father, only creators who confine him to cages and darkness, granting him the chemicals to sustain life, but nothing more. He trembles as he weeps but there is no sound. He will one day be known as Prompto Argentum, but for now, he is no one.

The Glacian reaches for the boy and freezes his tears, kisses the burning flesh of his marred wrist to soothe the pain. 

_Be strong, little one. Do not lose hope. Your life is more significant than you can ever imagine. And one day, you will find more love than you will ever dream._

And when the time comes, the boy will love, love, and love with his artificial heart—even if fate will never grant him the salvation of his prayers. Friends and brothers will soothe his sorrow, but a piece of his heart will forever remain lost, fated to vanish with the child born to die.

~~ 

“Legend has it that Shiva has no heart.” Tucked away in the young prince's chamber, a twelve-year-old Lunafreya Nox Fleuret whispers to an eight-year-old Noctis Lucis Caelum. “She once had a heart, but it was made of ice.”

“What happened to her heart?” Noctis blinks at Luna, his eyes teary and red. He had lost his mother in the days preceding, and Luna’s presence and stories are the only distraction he has from the unbearable pain.

With patience and sisterly care, Luna tells Noctis of the legend of Shiva, whose heart was once thawed by the Fire God, Ifrit. But Ifrit betrayed his vows to protect humanity and was slain by the other gods in the Astral War. After that, Shiva removed herself from the mortal world, her heart transforming into stone. 

“But I do not believe that Shiva has no heart,” Luna says, “She comes to me when I feel scared or alone. She speaks to me the most.”

“What does she say?” Noctis asks, and Luna furrows her delicate brows.

“I am not entirely sure. I cannot give meaning to her words yet, but I can feel her benevolence, her kindness.”

Luna smiles down at Noct, threading her fingers gently through his raven hair. Noct buries his face into the folds of his many pillows, tears escaping anew.

“Pray to her, Noct, for she will guide you—guide us—through whatever may come.”

~~

The High Oracle of Tenebrae breaths her last prayer, her heart broken. She weeps as darkness looms over the horizon, as fire and machines ravage her defenseless kingdom. She leaves behind her people fated to suffer, her young son and her even younger daughter to bear the burdens of war alone.

When eternal night falls upon them, only the moon will keep darkness at bay. Sweet, gentle Lunafreya—only thirteen when she approaches the Glacian to offer her soul in covenant. 

How can a Goddess ignore the dying wishes of an old friend, a pleading mother?

~~

The Glacian appears before Lunafreya in the form of the High Messenger. Between Luna’s delicate fingers threads a handkerchief—wrinkled and smudged with dirt from travel. Her small, white pup rests by her feet, the injury sustained on the canine’s leg visible but healing. 

“The handkerchief,” Luna tells the Glacian. “It belongs to Prompto Argentum, an Insomnian boy.”

The Glacian nods, recalling the child of Niflheim, the child with the artificial heart—uprooted now from the hell of his origin to be raised in strangers’ homes.

“Pryna was able to return to me because of this boy,” Luna says, “I asked him to find Noctis. They go to the same school.”

Lunafreya cares for Noctis, more than a dear friend, more than her future King. She loves him deeply and tragically, as one would love a child fated to die. 

“I want Noct to know friendship,” Luna says, “I want him to know love.”

~~

Noctis honks the horn of his car—willfully and incessantly—until Prompto appears before the window of his second-story home, opening the shutters with an exasperated huff.

“Are you insane?” he hisses at Noct, “You’ll wake up my neighbors.”

“Come down, then,” Noct returns, “Quickly.”

A while later, Prompto appears outside of his foster home, wearing only a tank top and shorts. He opens the door on the passenger side and drops into the seat beside Noct. Hair ruffled and eyes laden with sleep, Prompto fights back a yawn as he inspects the inside of the car, fiddling with the temperature controls by the dashboard.

“Nice ride,” Prompto whistles, his indignation momentarily replaced by curiosity. “Never seen you drive this one before.” 

“Wanted to go under the radar,” Noct shrugs. 

Prompto squints at Noct through the darkness, before widening his eyes in concern. “Are you drunk?”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” Noct says, “I’m not drunk.”

“You shouldn’t be driving,” Prompto reprimands, just as Noct removes the keys from the ignition and tosses them onto Prompto’s lap.

“You drive, then.”

Prompto looks down at the keys, and then back up at his friend. He nods, “Where to?”

They speed down the empty streets of Insomnia with Prompto behind the wheels and Noct giving directions. Noct wants them to go fast, but not too fast, avoiding streets heavy with patrol or areas that may attract media attention. Noct’s instructions were meticulous, borderline compulsive, and Prompto finds his own body string-tight with tension, mirroring Noct’s state of anxiousness.

They eventually stop outside of Insomnia, atop a hill that overlooks the city that defies sleep.

“It’s about the date, isn’t it?” Prompto breaks the silence first, “For the wedding.”

Noct nods.

“We’ve known about this,” Prompto says, “ _You’ve_ known about this for years.” 

“Shut up, Prompto,” Noct hisses as he reaches over, yanking Prompto towards him by a fistful of his tank top. His kiss is rough, desperate, and needy, and Prompto lets himself be devoured. Noct has never been good with words.

“God, Prompto.” Noct eventually breaks the kiss, his whisper a broken sob against Prompto’s lips. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I know,” says Prompto.

“But the war, the treaty, the crown, and Luna—”

“I _know_ ,” Prompto repeats, meaningfully. 

“I’d give anything to be with you.” Noct pulls back to look at Prompto. “If it was only up to me—”

Except it wasn’t only up to him. Noctis is the crown prince and the future King of Lucis. And the union of King and Oracle has been long awaited to bring an end to this perpetual war. Noct’s life did not belong to him, but to Lucis. 

“Will you come with me?” Noct asks, “To Altissia. I understand if you don’t want to.”

“Of course, I’ll come.” Prompto brings a hand to Noct’s face, cupping his cheek. “I’m still the best man, right?”

Noct hangs his head and laughs bitterly at the irony.

“I’m here for you.” Prompto urges his friend to look up. “Even when you’re the king and married, even when you have a family to continue the royal lineage, or whatever. Hell, even when I get out there too, and get a life of my own. No matter what happens, I’m here for you. I’m yours, Noct. I’ll always be yours.” 

Noct braves a smile, even if Prompto’s short monologue hurts him more than anything imaginable. Perhaps, it is a lonely childhood devoid of love that has made Prompto so resilient. He treats their friendship as a privilege, their love a gift. Meanwhile, Noctis—princely and entitled since birth—cannot fathom how he will survive knowing that he can never love Prompto the way he is meant to love him.

“It’ll be a fun trip,” Prompto continues—sweet and oblivious. “We can turn it into a bachelor’s party. Imagine that.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Noctis laughs weakly, wondering if it is for the best to hide his pain. Prompto smiles defiantly in the face of ill-fated love. Would knowing the savagery of Noct’s own heartbreak destroy him as well?

Two months will pass before Noct sets out on his journey with his three closest friends. Three months before Noct will lose his kingdom, his father, and Luna to a madman hell-bent on destroying 2000 years of Lucian history. If he had known about his finite time in this world, would Noct have been less afraid to love? The question does not occur to him until ten years later, as he stands between his friends and the very evil that has brought him to his fate.

He closes his eyes and counts down the seconds as Eos ceases to exist around him.

~~ 

In the realm of the spirits, Luna weeps.

“Why do you weep, young one?” the Glacian asks. Her mission has drained her life, but Luna is at peace now with her mother, father, and brother. Noctis sleeps within the Crystal, but he will awaken to banish the Starscourge, just as prophecy has foretold. “Soon your Noctis will join you. Soon your heart will be whole.”

Luna shakes her head. “But his heart will never be.”

~~ 

The Glacian materializes beside the True King of Lucis in the form of a dozen of glacial pixies. Before them stood the monstrous remains of Ifrit—wounded, grotesque, and possessed by darkness. Honoring her covenant with the True King, the Glacian descends upon the fallen god with her veil of ice—kissing him, wishing him to rest.

“Goodbye, my love,” she whispers, releasing his soul. Her tears drop like pearls onto the scorched earth below.

The True King nods to the goddess in a gesture of gratitude, before disappearing behind the walls of the citadel. After a decade's reign, darkness will finally recede with the fulfillment of the prophecy.

Dawn brims at the edge of the horizon.

~~

The Glacian watches as two souls stand on opposite sides of a great river of stars—the child fated to die and the child fated to love with his artificial heart. Between them drift unspoken words and unbreakable devotion, and the Glacian listens.

_I’m yours. I’m yours, always. But you weren’t supposed to leave me. You weren’t supposed to die._

_I know, I know. But my life was not mine to give. I couldn’t love you, but at least, I could save you._

Fate has no compassion, no pity. It is a river flowing towards completion regardless of the lives it might take, the creatures that may sink or drown in its wake. The Astrals foresee the future, but fate, written in the stars, is unchangeable. And in that moment, the Glacian’s heart feels broken, fragile, and agonizingly mortal.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <33


End file.
